Stole The Show: (On Hold)(Obsolete version)
by AVeryUnoriginalCorgi
Summary: This is a Hazbin Hotel fan story I started writing around march. It is currently on hold (and has been so for several months) until further notice, and It might be scrapped in favour of a new publication due to various changes to the overall story from my part. You're free to read but keep in mind I might not continue updating this version. Thanks to everyone who read it. -Corgi.


Chapter 1

The demon Called Jack Walden

* * *

There are a loud bang and screams. The sound of glass breaking and a body hitting the floor.

A young man somewhere in his twenties finds himself lying on the cold floor, bleeding profusely from a bullet wound on his stomach as everyone around him screams and runs out of the bar he had just been partying in. the floor around him is covered with shattered glass from the beers he had been bringing his friends.

Someone is standing near the main entrance, brandishing a Glock 16 and screaming his lungs out about losing his money. He aims towards the table the young man was and begins to open fire.

The friends the young man had been partying with him all get-up and try rushing to the emergency exit at the back. They do not make it far, all of them are shot down by the assailant.

The young man begins trying to crawl away, only to be met with the end of the Glocks barrel. Everything turns to black as the sound of the gun firing fills the air.

* * *

He woke up with a cold sweat, nearly naked on a filthy bed that was not his, and in an apartment, he did not recognize. Just another nightmare, they were starting to get a little less effective after a while. Hey, he had at least not screamed this time. His gaze fell upon the dusty and covered in filth mirror that was hanging on the precariously on the wall in front of him.

They were still there, glued to his head.

The fucking corgi ears where still there, as well as the horns and the tail.

"Fuck my life dude…"

Or more accurately, his afterlife.

It had been 7 months since he had arrived, but he still could not get used to his new form. He always expected to see himself in his old human form, without all these annoying features, without the overly sensitive ears and the hair everywhere. He had changed ever since he had arrived at this shithole. But oh well, he couldn't get too angry about it, after all, it didn't exactly make him stand out against the crowd, and as long as he didn't look like all the deformed freaks out there in the streets he was completely ok with it.

Living… or well, being dead in Hell was just downright weird, and it made him feel kind of worthless. Just another soul in an endless sea of freaks and mutants, horns and scales, no rhyme or reason and just a blatant disregard of any laws of physics and anatomy. Honestly, some of the guys here would have made H.R. Giger blush, assuming he was not here already.

It was also such a fucking chore. For a man who had spent most of his short human life scamming people online for money, working on a Hell-mart was a serious downgrade from what he used to do in life. He was used to getting thousands with low effort and a few deceitful emails, not barely gathering enough for rent after having to fend off hundreds of ravenous customers each day.

Jack, that is how he was called, Jack Walden. Most demons came up with cool new names whenever they arrive in hell, but Jack was not creative enough to come up with any that did not sound completely stupid. He had considered "Grim-snarl" or "Dark-toot" hell even only plain "Edgy", but none of those names resonated with his new appearance. Seriously whoever decided that every demon needed a new name when arriving in hell really seemed hated Jack, or well, at least that's what he believed

Jack had been the only son of an old broker back in Vegas and could have gone to any university he wanted with all the money his father had but had decided to go with an easier career of being an internet scammer. Honestly, it was easy, getting people to spend all their life savings on something stupid like winning a trip to Hawaii or helping their estranged Nigerian prince cousin. There is always going to be someone gullible enough to fall for these.

But here in hell, it was much better if he didn't even bother and kept his head low. Most freaks here saw through his disguises, and it was too time consuming and risky to make good scams to make it profitable. He preferred not to get in such a kind of trouble.

Well, at least there was one thing from his human life that had helped him. Gambling.

Jack was not the most skilled gambler out there, but he had managed to score some pretty big wins due to the lovely power he had been bestowed upon, luck so extreme that it would make Frane Selak look like an amateur.

Jack did not know exactly how to trigger it yet, but it always appeared when he least or most needed it. Whenever he was in trouble or having a particularly good day, Jack would hear the distinctive sound of something like a pachinko machine, and either something incredibly lucky would happen to him like finding a five hundred dollar bill, or he would find himself in terrible situations.

This "Power" seemed to be incredibly useful whenever he was gambling, getting him an amazing hand or making his opponent commit a grave mistake that had gotten him some serious amounts of cash from time to time. All Jack needed to do was pray that RNG Jesus was merciful with him and did not give him some bad luck. Because if he had bad luck, it was not pretty.

Jack dreaded the thought of his luck backfiring badly. The last time that had happened he had been winning a lot of money on the slots in the Jackpot casino and had tried to win against a guy with a lot of money. His luck backfired and he was caught cheating. He ended up getting beaten to near second death, only managing to save himself by giving his attackers all his money and the keys to his apartment, which they of course raided. That fluke cost him at least a hundred and twenty thousand dollars, and lots of heated arguments with his landlord. He had to work overnight for about six weeks to pay for all the damages.

But that was the past, and right now Jack was not concerned about whether his luck was favorable or not, more focused on figuring out what was going on right now. Most importantly, where was he?

He looked around the dingy apartment, the smell of Weed and Ecstasy filled the air so he must have been doing drugs. He looked to the other side of the bed, there was a Spider demoness that was sleeping soundly there, had he finally managed to have sex with someone? eh no, he still had his clothes on and the woman was clutching a phallic-looking object, he must have tried but chickened out at the last moment like he always did. He checked his pocket, taking out a handful of crumpled 20-dollar bills.

"Huh, at least I seem to have gotten some money…" Jack whispered as he put the bills back in his pocket and carefully began to get up from the bed and proceeded to tiptoe out of the apartment, avoiding trampling over the empty noodle cups and dildos that littered the floor near the door.

Jack reached over to the door, thankful that he had managed not to wake up the spider demoness. But his relief would be cut short as the apartment door was opened, not by him but by some bulking minotaur demon that proceeded to call out for his girlfriend. "Hey, Jenny! I'm home! I bring you the weed you asked for yesterday!"

Jack did not waste a second, just narrowly avoiding being seen by the larger demon by ducking behind the small kitchen counter. Peeking through the corner he could see that the minotaur was carrying some rather large boxes that limited his vision, which was good, what was not good was the fucking big-ass machete the guy was carrying. Jack was not going to get caught cheating with his girlfriend.

"What the fuck are you doing here Brad?! I thought I told you to not fucking come anymore after I caught you with Stephanie!" the spider demoness from before had woken up, and she seemed pretty angry. Her 'boyfriend' also seemed to be angry, throwing the boxes to the floor and yelling at her. the argument immediately broke into a fight "It was just one fucking time Jenny!" "Fuck you brad! get the fuck out of my house!".

The two demons immediately threw themselves at each other, scratching and punching each other as hair and black blood flew around and sprayed the walls. Jack took the opportunity to get out of the room, seeing that the two brawling demons were too distracted beating the crap out of each other to see him. He ran towards the door which opened with a rather loud creak. Jack froze as the other two demons stopped for a quick second, Jack could suddenly hear the Pachinko machine again, crouching behind a couch as he heard the bull demon talk "Was that the fucking door?".

Thankfully luck seemed to be on his side today, as after a few tense seconds the demons just continued their fighting, and Jack managed to get out into the apartment, a feel of relief washing over him as he recognized the same mundane hall of his apartment building, meaning he wasn't too far away from his own.

"Thank Jesus for getting me the hell out of there, swear I will never drink and go gambling again!" Jack exclaimed jokingly, as he took a deep breath of the coarse air of hell, ignoring the fact that the air burned through his lungs. Honestly, it was better than the apartment, that place stank of drugs.

Jack stretched a bit, hearing his spine pop as he began walking through the bleak hall of the apartment complex towards his elevator. As the elevator arrived, he could hear the two demons from before still fighting, although by now he did not care about what they would be doing. They were none of his business.

Jack just pressed the button to the 13th floor, and let out a sigh as he saw the two fighting demons busting through the door of their apartment as they fought, already both in their full demon forms. Jack just let out a small comment about how demons were too eager to go into their full demonic forms, and the elevator doors closed.

The elevator was, of course, painfully slow to move up to the 13th floor. Fitting as this was hell and every aspect of it was designed to make everyone have the most tedious maddening time, but still annoying. Hey, at least it did not break down this time.

Soon the elevator's door would open to reveal the bleak and cramped halls of the 13th floor. Vagrants and junkies slumped among the walls, smoking or begging for money as usual. Jack did not mind them anymore, but still wondered why they were even allowed there, to begin with.

Jack quickly walked down the hall toward his apartment, avoiding the stares from the demons in the halls, not bothering to even talk to the few neighbors that would open their doors. Jack had learned not to trust these assholes. He rounded and corner and was faced with a vagrant holding a dirty cup to his face and trying his best to make a cute begging face, only for Jack to push him out of the way. He knew they were only going to use it to buy some drugs from Randy.

Ahead of him, selling drugs to some vagrant, as usual, was Randy. The parrot demon was probably the biggest bane in Jack's existence, always trying to get the corgi demon to buy his shit. He was probably the reason why so many vagrants frequented the place. As Jack approached the drug dealer would turn his gaze towards him and smile, holding a bag full of amphetamines.

"Hey, Walden! Walden! You got to check these out yo! The arachnid cartel just sold me these things and they are potent as fuck man" He exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. Jack did not know why but the idiot seemed to always be shouting the fact that the cartel had sold him drugs like it was something to be proud of. Jack just passed by without even looking at him.

"Randy, I have already told you countless times I don't do that shit," The corgi demon said as he passed by "And every-fucking-one buys drugs from the cartel around these parts you moron, so there's nothing special about them"

He turned around another corner and reached his room, ignoring Randy's protests about how his drugs were top-notch and quickly opening and closing the door behind him as any intelligent demon would. Locking the door behind him he would sigh again and look at his kitchen.

"I could go for some coffee…"

His apartment was very tidy, at least for a denizen of hell like himself. It looked like one of those premade apartments at Ikea because it was one. He had managed to buy them off from some Imp with an assassination business back at imp city and even if they were pretty worn off they were better than most anything else in hell, Jack was sure that he probably had the nicest apartment in the whole complex.

He slumped over towards the small kitchen he had, passing near a small garbage can full of cards. He rummaged through the freezer, which was heating his food instead of keeping it cold, just another nonsensical thing that hell did to torture its inhabitants. He grabbed a half-eaten box of Chinese food, taking a small look at it before putting it in his mouth. Nothing to be too preoccupied about, he just took out the hairs and the dead rat inside and it was good as new. He ate it half-heartedly, quietly emptying the box as he looked out the window, blankly staring at the mayhem outside his apartment.

it was the standard hell shit, people going around, fornicating and partying in the street, beating and maiming each other as others just went to work, not paying attention to the others. He saw some explosions in the distance, recognizing that there was probably a turf war going on near.

"as long as those fuckers stay the hell away from this place…" jack knew that they were probably not getting near his building complex, after all, it was the turf from a powerful overlord. He looked at the empty box of Chinese food, then at the trash bin full of cards, touching the box as it began glowing a greenish tone. The glow would disappear, and the box would begin neatly folding on its own, contracting and transforming into a neat poker card. Jack took it and threw it in the bin, with the other cards.

This was Jack's main "power" apart from the luck part, he could make anything into a poker card. He had found this power while being robed by someone on the street behind the apartment, after folding the punk's weapon into one of the cards. He still got robbed but it was a well enough price to pay for such an ability.

With this, he could steal whatever he wanted, if no one saw him folding the items, of course. all through his apartment lay piles of cards from what he had stolen, ranging from various trinkets and foods to low caliber guns and daggers, even a motorcycle he had stolen. The only thing he had never tried to turn into a card where people, he wasn't sure he could do that and the probability of getting killed over it failing was too big for him to even try doing it. to be honest he was sure it was not even possible.

Jack got up from the small table he was in and walked over to his couch, slumping over he began watching some TV. 666 news flashed on the screen, the annoying faces of Katie killjoy and Tom Trench on his screen, Jack groaning as they began talking about some boring guest "oh hell no, I'm not watching these idiots again" he changed the channel to something much more entertaining, one of those love comedies starring that certain porn star. He didn't care about it, he just wanted to pass the time.

Slumping over on the couch he began closing his eyes, intent on sleeping trough this boring day, hopefully waking up later at night to go gamble small money he had gotten from yesternight. thinking about that, what had happened yesternight? He really couldn't remember anything about that night, he must have been extremely intoxicated or something. These thoughts danced around his brain as he closed his eyes but would ultimately fall into the wayside as he finally began to fall asleep, back to dreaming about his old life.

* * *

*Knock, knock, knock*

there was a knock at the door. a very peculiar knock.

"What the hell?"

Jack got up from his brief slumber, his ears perked up at the door. The knocking was unusual, very polite, and slow, unlike his landlords brash and hard knocks. But who could it be? Jack never received visits from anyone, but his landlord and he wouldn't be visiting for rent money at this hour, right?

"Hey, who is it there? Is it you Pete? I already paid the rent!" jack screamed from the door while getting up clumsily, his legs were tingling weirdly. With a bit of effort, the corgi demon managed to get to the door, beginning to unlock it as the knocking continued.

Finally, he unlocked the door, which opened to reveal… a cat demon?

Yes, a black and yellow cat demon with a single glowing eye dressed in a Valentino suit and fedora. it seemed to smile once he saw jack.

"Well hello there Mr. Walden, good to see you arrived home safely, my boss would have gotten quite upset if you didn't"

"Uh, who the fuck are you?" Jack said with a confused look on his face, he had never seen this demon before, but he felt a strong sense of déjà vu from about him was wrong, and it not only was the "Have we met before?"

"Oh, we have met before, quite recently, in fact, just last night at the Jackpot casino… I am Salem, and you may know my boss as Castello" the cat demon explained, his tone completely chill.

"C-Castello?" Jack felt a cold spark run down his spine, now he remembered who this creep was. He was one of the top lieutenants of Castello, an immensely powerful mafia capo, nearly as powerful as most overlords. The guy controlled all the drug trade on the south and southwest side of the Pentagram and he had the support of various overlords from around the city. he was known to ruthlessly take out anyone who defied him or even tried to compete with him and countless demons under his service had perished in the recent turf wars he had been having with the arachnid Mafia. He was certainly not someone to fuck with.

But why had he sent one of his Lieutenants to come for him? this question immediately shot up trough Jacks brain, why would they want him? what kind of power did he have that could get the attention from someone like Castello? his card powers? but those could only be used for... Chills ran down his spine, he needed to get away from this guy.

"W-what does he want?" Jack asked, an awkward smile appearing on his face, as he carefully began to back away from Salem. he needed to get some distance from him and possibly something to protect himself with if the Cat demon were to attack him. the good old Maxim Blaster he kept under the kitchen counter would do more than enough he guessed. now he only had to get to it.

"The boss only wants to come to ask you some questions, Mr. Walden, he saw your little display yesterday at the casino and it impressed him…he is even considering, giving you a job..." Salem responded, Inspecting his nails and looking at his watch, a small groan of dissatisfaction escaping his lips. this was taking just too long. "Mr. Walden I may ask you to accompany me outside, my boss is already waiting for us both in his limo and you must know he isn't exactly the waiting type," Salem said as he began approaching Jack, one of his hands behind, the corgi demon catching glimpse of something akin to a syringe on it.

Salem's response gave jack the confirmation he needed that this wasn't a good thing, especially for his survival. It was widely known that those who joined any cartel or mafia here in hell rarely survived for more than a month, and the ones who did would normally end up as miserable alcoholics with their days counted. it was something Jack tried to avoid, he wasn't one for the whole criminal lifestyle, he just wanted to live in the safest way possible. but the way Salem phrased it, it seemed he didn't have a choice unless he escaped of course.

"And what kind of job does the Capo want me to perform?" Jack asked, trying to remain as calm as possible as he backed away towards the counter, much to Salem's annoyance. The cat demon seemed to remind calm, but Jack could sense he was growing impatient. he was going to take Jack to Castello whether the other wanted to come or not.

"Oh I don't know, that is for the boss to decide, but given your power, I'm sure that you will be given a nice job as a drug runner or possibly some sort of hitman if your ability can work on people" Salem explained as he continued approaching Jack, now nearly next to him. His words made Jack's heart drop. Drug runner, possibly the most dangerous position in the whole industry.

"Woah Woah, Drug runner? Isn't that like guaranteed death now with the whole turf war going between your mafia and the arachnid cartel?!" Jack exclaimed as he reached the counter, quickly beginning to rummage through to find his gun "I'm sorry but I'm afraid I don't want to do that sir"

"Whether or not you do is not my bosses concern Mr. Walden, You should already know by now that he's not going to take a no for an answer, and neither am I..." Salem got right up to Jack, towering over the smaller dog demon. it was clear that he was not playing around, Jack had already wasted enough of his time. Jack did not have time to waste, he began putting his hand on the gun, just as he did the others' single eye shifted towards it and back at him.

"I wouldn't suggest that Mr. Walden," Salem said, a foreboding tone on his voice. But Jack already had his hand on the gun. with all his might he took it out of the counter cabinet it was in and pointed it directly at Salem's head.

Only to get a knee to the stomach.

"Pathetic"

Salem was one quick sonofabitch. In less than five seconds he had already reacted to Jack's attempt to defend himself, first kicking him straight in the gut, then quickly disarming him by twisting his arm, making Jack drop the gun to the floor, Salem kicked it away as soon as it hit the floor. In less than 10 seconds Salem had already beaten Jack.

"Honestly, what did I expect from a two-bit Gambler like you," Salem said, picking up Jack and pushing him against one of the walls of the apartment. His words expressing, he had some sort of great disdain for Jack. "Listen to my words mutt, the only reason this is happening, and you are still alive, is because my boss liked your little card trick yesterday, but he isn't one to tolerate insubordination between his ranks. So, you better behave, if you don't want a seraphim bullet in your skull"

Jacks was now pinned to the wall, gasping for air and with massive pain in his chest, but he still had some fight in him, trying to reach for his pocket to take out the cards he had in there, surely he had some kind of weapon to defend himself with right? he could hear the roulette that signified his luck on the back of his head, praying it went well and that Salem didn't notice what he was doing. To his dismay, the cat demon did, just as Jack was about to grab the cards.

Salem just responded to Jack's attempt with a disappointed sigh, taking out the syringe that Jack had seen before. "It is quite sad that it had to come to this Mr. Walden, you should have just accepted your fate and came peacefully, oh well, I suppose the only way to control a mutt like you is by drugging them" With that Salem jammed the syringe in Jacks Neck, much to the smaller demons discomfort.

Jack trashed and tried to push the syringe away, to no apparent use. he screamed for Salem to take it out of his neck, but the cat demon just held him to the wall. he wasn't going anywhere.

The effects of the drug contained in the syringe soon began to weigh down on Jack, who's head began to spin and his blood began to seemingly boil. "What the fuck was that? what have you put in… my body?" Jack asked as he felt his eyes dropping down, he was going to pass out any moment now.

"Oh It is just a neat little sedative provided to us by our lovely friend Valentino, quite a lovely little thing, tailor-made to deliver excruciating pain to whoever tries to fight it, so I suggest being a good boy and giving up~" Salem responded, a smug smirk appearing on his lips, it was clear he was enjoying seeing Jack in excruciating pain.

and in excruciating pain Jack was, his blood was boiling and every movement he did only made it worse. He had to give in. with his last bit of force, he would spit at Salem's face, and mutter a weak "Fuck you" to the cat demon before his body gave in and he fell asleep.

Salem smirked satisfied as he saw him fall asleep, finally, the mutt had shut up. "Have a nice dream, Mr. Walden, you will need it for what the boss is going to do to you to correct this insubordination" he let Jack's limp body fall to the floor, kicking it to make sure that the dog demon was asleep. No response, good. With a final glance at the sleeping demon, he took out his phone and dialed the number of some lackeys. "Salem here got the guy, had to knock him out with the sedative so I need you to send two guys here to pick him up, I'm not touching this mutt anymore…" He looked at his watch once again, 7:30, they were five minutes late. The boss would be pissed.


End file.
